"You know," Walter commented, "the peak season for this island is summer, obviously, because they get a ton of snow and ice here in the wintertime. It's not snowing yet, obviously, but I read that it's almost as if we'll have the entire island to ourselves this time of year."

"Nice," Paige said. "Less witnesses. Easier to fake."

Walter frowned as he looked down at the papers he'd printed off. "Yeah. Exactly."

They were on the ferry that would take them to the island where they'd spend the next week. "Kind of weird to be going North for a honeymoon at this time of year," Cabe had commented. But the hotel they were staying at was old, expensive, and romantic, and Walter's logic had been it would look as if they'd chosen it for its relative seclusion at the end of tourist season, and that, logically, newlyweds would want to have a lot of time to be alone. There was also a lot of history on the island, and his bride loved history. Of course he would want to take her someplace where she would be happy.

If anyone argued that it was abnormal, Walter would point out that he wasn't normal, and he never had been.

Paige had been mostly silent. Not the entire morning, no, she was very chatty as they'd prepared to go to the airport, and in the car. Walter knew her well enough to know that nerves were what was driving her average words per minute up, a need to keep filling what else would be an uncomfortable silence.

But once they'd gotten on the plane, all of that had been abandoned in favor of a near silent four and a half hour flight to Detroit. She'd stood close to him in baggage claim upon his reminder that there were cameras, letting him put an arm around her waist and pressing her shoulder and hip against him. But once they were on their next flight to Pellston, she'd grown quiet again, not reading, not listening to music, just tucking her head to her chest and closing her eyes.

She looked miserable, guilty even, and Walter didn't understand why.

Now that they were on the ferry, she was sitting in a chair by the window, staring out at…he'd lost his bearings, whatever lake was on the left side. Walter approached her hesitantly. "Do you want to go sit on the top deck?" He asked.

Paige shrugged. "Yeah, if you want."

"I'm asking if you want."

She shrugged again. "Sure. Why not."

"Come on." He waited until she got to her feet before climbing the stairs. The ferry was already moving, and he sent her up first, hoping she wouldn't slip and fall but ready to catch her if she did.

"It's kinda chilly out here," she commented, pulling her coat more tightly around her as they sat down.

"Come here, then," Walter said, sliding one of his arms around her and pulling her close. She stiffened slightly – only for a moment – and then relaxed against him, her head on his shoulder. "See? That's better."

"Yeah. Uh – huh."

He looked around. They weren't the only ones up top, but the two older women at the other end of the deck didn't seem to be interested in making conversation with the younger couple.

"Leave them alone, Abby," Walter overhead, barely, in the wind. "I hear they're on their honeymoon."

Good. They definitely wouldn't be coming over here.

"Paige…can we talk?"

She gave a deep sigh, one that might sound angry with him if he didn't know her, but one that he recognized as conflicted. "Talk about what?"

He bit his lower lip, glad that the way she was cuddled up to him, she couldn't see his face. "Well, things have been…uncomfortable, since last night, and…" he shifted his weight. "You're really important to me. Paige. I don't want…I don't like the silence."

"I don't either," she said, lifting her head to look at him. "I just…I feel…"

His eyebrows shot up. "What?" You feel what?

She sighed. "Nothing. I mean…not nothing just…last night was a mistake and I didn't stop it."

He shook his head vigorously. "I should have…"

"No, no," Paige said. "Do not do that. You don't have all of the information."

He cocked his head. "What does that mean?"

She looked at him, pressing her lips together, her eyes searching his. Then, "Never mind."

Each room in the hotel was uniquely designed – part of the $1400 a night price tag that they were paying to stay, and Walter watched as Paige wandered through the suite, her eyes wide as she took it all in. Despite the palpable awkwardness between the two of them – that had endured through lunch and the carriage ride and probably showed in the photos they'd taken – Walter saw a small flush to her skin as she cooed over the accommodations.

The place was incredibly romantic and Walter didn't want to be there. Not when they wouldn't be doing anything about it. Possibly, had last night not happened, he wouldn't feel so strongly about this, they could ignore the ambiance, talk to each other, God, he loved talking to her, and then he could fall asleep next to her and wake up the following morning to enjoy their day.

But last night had happened, and the incredible guilt and regret that Walter had discovered he wasn't capable of pushing out of his mind, as he could do with most other things, made him wish he could make it up to her now. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her tenderly, he wanted to do that so badly that his heart physically ached, and show her that that was the person that she made him, the person that he wanted to be for her.

She had committed herself to him, changed her name for him, was doing all of this just so he wouldn't be deported and dammit, she deserved to be rewarded for it in any way he could.

"It's all so beautiful," she gushed, walking over to him. "I didn't know places like this still existed in this country."

He hadn't either, until he'd researched cozy romantic getaways like an idiot.

"I'm glad you like it," he said. "Because we're going to be here for the next six days."

They were not permitted to be downstairs after five in the evening unless they were dressed black tie, and Paige clung to Walter's hand as they walked into the dining area, feeling like she might topple over without his support.

She'd selected her gowns for these meals a week before the wedding, saying that her choices were based on what a newly married woman would want to wear while on her honeymoon. But when she'd stepped out in this one, when Walter saw her and looked at her as if he never wanted to direct his eyes anywhere else, Paige realized that that hadn't been her only motivation in choosing it.

She'd wanted that reaction from him. She'd picked all of the dresses – and she'd known from the start that this was the one she was going to wear first – with the intention of making his brain short circuit, making him stutter and stammer as he searched for words with which to tell her how she looked. The way he said stunning always made her nearly lose her balance. Combine it with the way he looked at her and her ability to hear his breathing despite his obvious attempts to appear in control and she knew she'd stumble if she let go of his hand.

It didn't help that he looked so good in his tux.

What am I doing?

Why was she insisting on making all of this more difficult for him?

The five course meal was delicious, Paige was sure, but she barely tasted any of it. Walter was talking to her, discussing the history of the hotel, the dignitaries that had stayed there and else ware on the island, and the events that take place yearly in the area. She appreciated his obvious efforts to discuss topics that he knew she was interested in – he must have done a lot of research in picking the location despite the short turnaround – and she smirked to herself when she realized he was purposefully avoiding any discussion of the island's significant military history. The conversation was pleasant, and although she couldn't shake the guilt no matter how hard she tried, she was glad that this wasn't more time they were passing in awkward silence.

But then it was time for bed, and Paige felt the dread seeping into her as she changed out of the gown, hung it up, and slipped into her unfortunately sexy looking nightwear. She'd packed it out of fear that Immigration might show up on their trip and search her bags, although she realized now that that was highly unlikely. She couldn't wear what she'd worn the previous night, but…but it'd be wrong to wear this, wouldn't it?

Her only other option was to put her jeans and the top she'd worn earlier in the day back on and sleep like that, and that would look terrible and probably make Walter feel worse.

She grabbed a towel. "Walter?" She called. "Are you in bed?" She knew even before he answered that he wasn't. She'd gone into the bathroom first. "Okay. I'll be out in a sec, can you…can you not look? Oh, never mind," she said, this time not waiting for his answer. She wrapped the towel around her, stepping out of the bathroom, realizing when she fell into his line of sight that she'd made a terrible mistake. "Oh, I'm not…" she opened the towel, completely abandoning her initial reason for wrapping herself in it in the first place.

Walter looked away – probably realizing that her appearance was the reason she'd initially asked him not to look, despite her immediate retraction – but not before she saw his lips move slightly, and based on the tension she could see in his jaw, she realized the quiet word he'd uttered was more than likely dammit.

She put the towel back around her. "Bathroom is free."

She crawled into the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin and then covering her face with her hands, stifling an agitated whine. She was wound. She knew the previous night had been a mistake and she knew it was her fault but that didn't mean that as soon as he came to bed she didn't want to pull him on top of her and make the same mistake all over again. Just because I want to doesn't mean I will.

"What?"

Paige jumped. "What?"

Walter raised his eyebrows. "You were saying something."

"Oh. Thinking out loud, I guess."

He looked down at her, the concern evident in his eyes. "Are you okay, Paige?"

"Yeah. Totally. Uh huh."

"Are you sure? You don't look okay. Is there anything I can do?"

Paige almost laughed out loud.

At her silence, Walter walked around to the other side of the bed and eased under the covers. "Paige, I just don't want us to be distant."

She rolled on her side. "Me either."

"I know that in the grand scheme of things," Walter said, and she could hear the hesitation in his voice, "very few things actually matter." He held her gaze for a long moment before continuing. "You matter to me. I don't want last night to be the beginning of an end."

She gave a tiny nod. "I don't want that either."

"So…can we just enjoy the rest of the week? As…as friends? As people who matter to each other?"

She slipped her hand into his. "I'd really like that."

They're both sort of working against each other emotionally right now. He's trying to be extra sweet with her because he thinks she deserves nothing but after his failure to be romantic the night before, and she thinks that he's acting the way he is because they slept together and he loves her and can't handle his emotions. They both think they've failed the other, he's too scared to explicitly state what's bothering him, she doesn't feel she can say what's bothering her because of the fact that he doesn't know what happened when he was in space. It's going to get more complicated before it finally gets better, but it will! So stay tuned, and as always, authors love reviews. Some of us even jump in our seats and squeal when we see a notification of a new one.